Icy Room

My eyes snapped open – they were filled with the light of the bright bulbs overhead. Around me, men with covered faces churned about the room. My body felt frozen. I tried to move, but my limbs were numb.

“What happened?” I thought. “The last thing I remember was...”

There had been an accident. The vehicle had hit a patch of slick road, and the only sound I heard was the heartbeat in my ears. When the tires touched the rough land beyond, the world spun about me with a wild fury. Trees were not kind at high speeds – I was torn from my seat and thrown away from the twisted wreckage. I fell into the blackness of a dark forest. Agony washed over me, and shadows overwhelmed my thoughts.

Now, in the cold room, I tried to piece together how much time was lost. The memories already felt distant, as if they were a lifetime away. There was no longer any pain – there were no feelings at all.

My attempts to form words were in vain. I focused on the sounds around me, and tried to discern my situation.

“Another error – this is not our night,” one of the strangers said.

“We need to start over,” another concurred. He walked to me, and looked over my body. His hand reached out to my own, but the metallic limb he pulled into my sight sent a wave of panic through me.

“I must be dreaming,” I thought.

The man who held my robotic arm looked back to his colleagues. With a shake of his head, he let out a sigh of frustration.

“This is what we get with these donor parts. The memory wipe didn't take – let's try it again.”